Love, Time, Death
by PrimrosePrime
Summary: After the fight with Predaking, Ultra Magnus starts to feel lost with guilt as he realized that he had done something that was as terrible as the Decepticons. But sometimes, he wish he had more time while Predaking fears death and everyone else longs for love
1. chapter 1

Chapter One: Family Never Leaves You

Ultra Magnus gazed at the purple, orange and pink sky, the sun setting over the horizon.

"Ultra Magnus"?

Someone called and he turned to see Paige looking up at him with curiosity and worry.

"Yes, Paige"? "Are you okay? After your encounter with Predaking, I wanted to make sure."

The commander gave her a soft smile, "I am alright, young one." The young girl tilted her head before she raised her arms towards him. Knowing the gesture, the mech complied and gently used his good hand to pick her up and put her on his shoulder. They both looked at the sky once again.

"You're taking your time with it, aren't you"? Paige asked curiously, breaking the soft silence.

Ultra Magnus blinked at the question and he slowly glanced at her, "what do you mean"?

"The hand Predaking broke. I know it's new and are... are you taking your time with it"? Paige asked hesitantly, looking at the commander. The commander fell silent and he looked down, unintentionally making Paige worry. "I... I do not know." With that said, Ultra Magnus gently picked her up and they both went inside. Paige went to the others as Ultra Magnus sat down.

 _'What did she mean by that? The Predacons... they were sparklings... weren't they? And I killed them. Primus, am I a murderer'?!_

His good hand clenched spasmodically; servos digging into his palmplate until they left dents and his helm dropped as his optics offlined as a wave of shame and guilt threatened to send him into the welcoming blackness and oblivion of stasis lock. The damaged hand on the opposite side tried to mimic the move but only twitched painfully and gears and articulating cables tugged on damaged mesh and components that were no longer there.

"Commander"!

The urgency in the tone snapped through Ultra Magnus like a whip.

"Sir," the mech was alert as his leader walked to him.

"At ease, old friend. You are bleeding," said Optimus as he gently took his bad hand.

"I-I must have strained the new welds. My apologies. I will escort myself to Ratchet immediately," the commander stated quickly, trying his hardest not to pull his new servo from his leader.

""Our medic has gone with Nurse Darby to acquire more needed supplies. Come. I may not be Ratchet but I am somewhat capable with a line welder."

Seeing no way to avoid the issue the commander nodded and held out the injury dutifully to Optimus and sat mutely as the Prime gently took the end of his arm and began applying the line welder to the damaged energon lines.

"Ratchet will soon have a replacement ready for you," he offered, "It will not perhaps be what you are used to but it will be functional."

"I appreciate what the Doctor does for the unit," Ultra Magnus replied in a clipped voice refusing to look into the cerulean optics.

Fairly quickly Opimus wrapped up his ministrations and set aside the device. The commander thanked him and lowered himself back to the berth with what dignity he could muster in such a compromised position. To his surprise however the Prime did not leave. Ultra Magnus felt a hand on his shoulder struts and the soft teaking of a field against his.

"Old friend," the Prime began lacing the words through with glyphs offering to listen to whatever the mech had to get off his chestplates. The smaller mech turned his helm stiffly away from him, dislodging the gentle touch.

"Prime..." his voice was low and even as he stared at the primitive steel beams in the ceiling above them; trying to maintain the barriers of order and habit that were keeping him from breaking down.

He was dreading this conversation, had been dreading it from the moment Predaking had spoken and the horrific realization of what he had condoned, what he had done, had struck him far harder than any of the clone's blows. He heard a tired sigh behind him.

"Ultra Magnus," Optimus began again, stepping around to face his second the glyphs subtly changing form, not quite commanding, not yet.

The commander forced his optics up past the robust chassis and to the painfully compassionate gaze. He knew there would be no condemnation in those optics, dreaded the forgiveness he would see there, forgiveness that he did not deserve.

"The crime I committed my Prime," he stated harshly before the other had a chance to speak. "It is unforgivable. What can there be said to separate the Autobots from the Decepticons if there is no difference in the actions of their leaders"?

Optimus's optics hardened marginally as he shook his helm.

"You acted in ignorance. Given the situation, with all of humanity in danger, I would no doubt have issued the same order. That is a far cry from Megatron's deliberate targeting of the young."

"Sparklings"! the commander stated flatly clenching his servos again, making the new welds tense painfully. "They were sparklings"! He drew in a controled vent of air and stared directly into his leader's optics.

"Fully sentient, sparked, Cybertronian life, innocent of any wrongdoing and I. Killed. Them. There is nothing that can be said or done to negate that fact Optimus. When Predaking spoke… I knew…but it was too late," that horrific moment played over and over in his processor; the thunderous roar and boom that was the only requiem the innocents would have.

"Yes I was ignorant. But it remains that I gave the order to terminate them."

The leader of the Autobots gave a weary exvent and extended his field, carefully teaking the other, feeling Ultra Magnus's field respond, pressing against his; the only sign of the internal agony, guilt, and need for companionship that was burning behind the stoic faceplates. Optimus knew well that there was nothing he could say. The commander had made the best decision he could given the circumstances, and a tragedy had resulted. Thinking them to be mere beasts he had ordered the deaths of innocent sparklings.

The Prime extended his field, offering what he could; companionship, understanding. He accompanied the teaking with glyphs indicating his willingness to listen whenever the smaller mech needed to speak of it. The Commander's red and blue frame did not relax, his faceplates gave nothing away, but his energy against Optimus's raged with shame and pain; accepting the offered presence. But soon Ultra Magnus's field retreated and was pulled tightly to his frame. He nodded stiffly and sent a quick glyph of thanks before very deliberately linking his processor remotely to the computer to complete some task. Optimus turned and walked away knowing that his presence would no longer be welcome.

War, the death of innocence, the cost of battle. The commander mused as he turned his attention from the computer to the human's area once Optimus had stepped out of the hanger. It could be counted in sparks. The sparks of countless young lost to evil mechanizations and ignorance both, and those that slowly had their sparks eaten away because of deeds forced on them by circumstances beyond their control. The sound of laughter and subdued screams interrupted his thoughts and he glanced over at the sound. In the far corner of the base, half hidden by a stack of crates Smokescreen was lying on his back as the four human children climbed over him wielding something they called laundry markers. The five were laughing and squealing and urging each other to be quiet as they mock struggled.

Innocence. Ultra Magnus's optics lingered on the one called Jack for a moment as he heaved himself up into a sitting position to get a better look. Lost sparklings. He wondered for a moment what would have become of the Predacon young, had they been given a chance to imprint and grow in a peaceful environment. Would they have so eagerly scrambled over their brother's frame? Would Predaking have tolerated, welcomed their attentions? Would they have made such sounds of joy and competition as they played? Or would Shockwave's manipulations have left them as warriors only, devoid of gentler sentiments. Because of his choices they would never know.

Paige lifted her head and yelped with surprise as she caught sight of the commander and gaining the attention of the others. "U-Ultra Magnus, sir"! Jack exclaimed as the others scattered to attention with Smokescreen who desperately tried to cover his chassis. Guilt hit Ultra Magnus in the spark as they did so.

"Continue as you were. I was only looking." He said and they all looked at each other then at the commander with slight surprise and confusion. The commander gave them a soft smile.

"Go on." He said softly and they gave him a confused yet amused smile and went on with what they were doing. Paige looked at him and smiled. He couldn't help but smile back at the young girl. He was taking his time and he knew he had a family to help with that.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: What Was Lost, Can Be Found

Rain fell from the clouds. It wasn't long before a soft growl broke the silence.

Predaking sat on the upper hull, glaring at the clouds, and rain running down his frame. Anger coursed through his body. Not only that, but sadness. He didn't make it in time and now his brethren were all gone.

Megatron stood in the control room, gazing at the open screen that showed the thunder and rain.

He glanced at Soundwave who was at his station, silently doing his work.

Dreadwing was polishing weapons while Knockout and Breakdown were talking in the medbay.

Dreadwing calmly set down the nearly glowing sword on the table. Tears came to his optics as he began to think of his twin brother, Skyquake. He backed away and slumped against the door.

"I couldn't make it, brother. I was too much of a fool and I failed you. I am so sorry." He sobbed, his servo on his helm as he tilted it back, tears streaking down his faceplates. Unaware to the seeker, Skyquake's spirit drifted near him, tears running down his own faceplates.

"I am sorry as well, brother," he whispered.

Megatron walked down the hallway, vehicon troops quickly saluting and staying out their leader's way to avoid his possible anger. The silver and purple mech paid them no mind as he went to his berthroom. The door closed as he walked in. He sat on his berth, grasping a datapad in his servos. It was a picture of Orion Pax and himself from when he was a gladiator.

"I am sorry... I am sorry I could not stop this War... Orion."

He had only memories to blame. Growing as a youngling in Kaon to become the powerful gladiator he came to be annexed a variety of costs and sacrifices.

Such as innocence.

Megatron would never forget that.

The innocence lost now haunted him like a dark wound that he believed was never to be alleviated. Like a stain that cannot be erased. There was no light before settling down with Orion Pax. The sweet archivist illuminated the dark. But whenever the gladiator was alone, all he saw was the darkness. It flooded his processor when he offline his optics. Reminding him all of what so long ago happened in vivid detail in his processor. Playing off as a movie, it quickly flashed through his helm without color. Only the color of blue. The color of energon..

The white flashes of pain. The screaming. The humiliation and disgrace of others watching.

Like the lightning, the thunder. The rain, continuously falling from the sky until sunlight dominated.

He didn't think he would ever be liberated from the darkness that filled his processor. Until he had met Orion. The mech had brought a sense of kinship and affections to Megatron's authority. Orion was the rays of sunlight that alleviated the pain and stress haunting Megatron. The gladiator only felt so perfect and warm when Orion Pax was around. Because everything about the sweet and graceful archivist made Megatron's spark spin erratically in its chamber. He was the light Megatron never saw before. And Megatronus would never forget the first time seeing those deep optics...

Lightning crackled nearby and almost immediately, a carnivorous thunder echoed after it, shaking the metallic grounds beneath the apartment they lay. Megatron closed his optics at the sound, suppressing a flinch at the loud roar.

Soundwave stood at his station, gently patting Laserbeak's helm as she rested on on the side of his arm. It wasn't long before he had remembered his other cassettes.

Rumble, Frenzy, Buzzsaw, Ratbat and Ravage. His servos slowly clenched into fists.

He blamed himself. He blamed the War. He blamed the Autobots for their deaths. He looked at Laserbeak again and wished he had smiled as she was recharging. He gently patted her helm and returned to his work. **Soundwave: Inferior. Autobots: Superior:** he said in his real voice. Laserbeak shifted slightly and he continued to work.

Knockout was polishing a tool while Breakdown was doing the same thing. The cherry red mech gripped the washcloth tightly in his servo as he began to think. During the War, he had lost a lot.

He spared a glance at Breakdown who didn't notice.

'Breakdown.'

The former wrecker was his best friend. No matter what trouble they would've gotten themselves into, they've been able to get out of it. And if it wasn't for Breakdown's savior, he would've been dead.

Killed by Airachnid. Now that he thought about it, where was that femme? It wasn't long before she was sent to an unknown location by Soundwave. But he couldn't help but think about the War. What was it to him? To some, it was nothing but loss and devastation.

As Knockout gave a small sigh and rather clumsily reattached the panelling of his partner's forearm, Breakdown cautiously toyed with the idea of requesting to know what was on his mind."Is somethin' up?" he asked lightly, gently massaging his freshly-repaired servo as the medic turned on his heel without a word.

"No," Knockout replied at once, crossing the sickbay and stooping to return the calibrator to storage. After drawing himself up to full height again, the medic was surprised to find that he had to force himself to meet his partner's stare.

"Why do you ask"?

Breakdown shrugged, attempting to appear casual.

"You're pretty quiet," he muttered, watching as Knockout gave a slightly more half-hearted shrug of his own. Dropping his gaze, the larger Decepticon eased himself down from the examination table and flexed his limbs. "It's not like you."

Knockout let out a soft sigh and turned to Breakdown, "you told me that someone saved you before Airachnid killed you, right"?

Breakdown nodded, "yeah. Why"?

"Who was it? Because I doubt it was an Autobot." Knockout said to him, crossing his arms.

Breakdown blinked, "well, before Airachnid killed me, something grabbed her and yanked her away from me. I don't know who it was."

Knockout gave a heavy sigh and shook his helm.

"What's going on, Knockout"?

"I almost lost you, Breakdown. You're my partner. And no matter what Lord Megatron wants, it's War and I don't want your death to be in vain."

Breakdown fought the urge to cry as Knockout said that. He walked over and carefully placed his servo on his shoulder, making the Decepticon medic look at him.

"I'm not going anywhere, Knockout. I promise."

"Better not or I'm kicking your aft all the way to Cybertron's two moons and back." Knockout chuckled softly yet playfully and Breakdown chuckled as the cherry red medic wrapped his arm around his own.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Letters

Arcee sat in her berthroom, writing at her desk. Cliffjumper stepped into the doorway, giving the door a light knock.

She smiled softly at him, "hey, Cliff."

"Hey, 'Cee. What're you doing"? He asked, walking over to her side. The blue, silver and light pink femme quickly shielded the datapad away.

"None of your business, partner."

Cliffjumper playfully pouted, "oh come on."

Arcee shook her helm, "nope."

Cliffjumper's field extended around Arcee's, pleading and begging for her to let him see. As much as she didn't want to, Arcee couldn't say no.

Not when he was giving her the look of an adorable sparkling. She groaned, "fine." Cliffjumper victoriously grinned, taking the datapad carefully without breaking it and he looked at the writing. His optics scanned the datapad and by the time he was done reading it, Arcee was crying.

And so was he. "Oh, Arcee..." he whispered and hugged her. She leaned into the embrace, "I-I-I miss them... I miss all of them..."! She nearly sobbed.

Cliffjumper rubbed her back, "I know. I'm here for you, 'Cee. And I'm never letting you go."

 _Dear, Death. I wish you had let me see him._

 _I wish I could have more time with Tailgate._

 _He was there for me like everyone else is._ _Along with my sisters, Chromia and Elita One._

 _It hurts. You hurt so much and you hurt anyone without realizing it._

 _You are lifeless yet you're the same. You're not the one who started the War. You are something I've never expected._

 _I wish you could see how much pain I was in for once._


End file.
